by Aleks Canard
It was nothing compared to Estreser’s. It was much more reserved, and it housed all the Feudal Lords. It backed onto a private garden which had a lookout over the ocean. Trix had only been inside once with Susan.
Sure enough, that was where they were going.
The gates opened at the sight of Blor’daeyn’s Knights. Instead of entering the palace, Strife Squad was led along an outer ring road that rose up a gently sloping hill towards the garden. A mosaicked pathway took the group to a raised platform.
‘The Sun’s Lookout,’ Trix said as she walked up the steps.
‘You’ve been here before?’ Altayr said.
‘Blor’daeyn’s first stones were laid here nearly 300 years ago. It was built even before the palace because the Feudal Lords believed everyone should be able to see this view.’
Valentine: ‘Wait, that would have to mean Elael is over three centuries old. No wonder he looks so haggard. Every step he takes must be dragging on death’s doorstep.’
‘I met him briefly after the commotion in the square. I sense that magic has played a part in prolonging his life along with top of the line medical care.’
Trix: ‘I think we ought to stop speaking about him. He’s up ahead.’
Elael Vorlym stood front and centre on the lookout, which was built to look like a geometric star from above. An asymmetrical group of vine covered pillars created a waning crescent. White poppies decorated the columns which had been made from imported Xardiassian marble.
Myven Daebas sat beside Elael in a hovering wheelchair. His face was sickly. His eyes were happy and his smile pushed through despite the pain from his broken body. The rest of Blor’daeyn’s Feudal Lords flanked them on either side. Vyanlo Aervuth regarded Trix with a sly grin. He looked like a fox that’d happened upon a wounded rabbit.
Strife Squad’s knightly escort separated in perfect formation. All nine of them formed a semi-circle behind the foursome of outsiders.
Everyone looked to Trix for an explanation. She had none.
‘Beatrix Westwood,’ Elael began. He held his arms out, wearing a traditional zirean tunic.
Trix didn’t know his family history, though she knew he probably wasn’t of royal blood. True nobles typically had the letter “I” in their last name. “Y” was common in a lot of zirean names as it was heavily used in ancient zirean, from which their modern tongue derived. The same went for “ae” letter combinations.
‘You have wandered Blor’daeyn’s streets without the company of your designated officer. As we previously discussed that is reason enough for your banishment to be reinstated. However, Officer Myven has spoken tirelessly of your combative efforts, and indeed, how your actions saved his life.
‘The same was said of you too, Altayr Van Eldric, and Aleks Valentine. The police who fought by the southern gate spoke of your bravery, as did the Vredra family, whose shop in which your skirmish unfortunately took place.
‘By the power vested in me by monarchs and presidents of Xardiassant’s esteemed history, I hereby offer the three of you, brave warriors all, Zilvian knighthoods.’
Trix was floored.
One day people will bow to you, little one, Susan had said while she’d brushed Trix’s hair before bedtime.
Altayr bowed in the zirean fashion. ‘Unfortunately I cannot accept your gracious honour. As part of the Conclave I cannot claim any titles that do not pertain to magical arts, or positions of governance.’
Elael nodded. He always liked mages. They spoke clearly and had faultless manners. They were his kind of people.
‘I’m afraid I must also decline,’ Valentine said, taking his beanie off and holding it behind his back. He made an effort to bow, though his injuries caused him too much pain. How the devil he was going to fight Nadira’s forces in such a state made his stomach contort in angst. ‘My only allegiance is to the 19th Division of Orbital Rangers, though I am humbled by the opportunity. Bright stars and clear skies.’
Elael was less than impressed by Valentine’s scrubby attire, then again, he had sprung this impromptu ceremony on the author without warning.
‘What say you, Beatrix Westwood?’ Elael said. Even though it was wealth that had won him the position of Blor’daeyn and Zilvia’s steward, right now, with the sun at his back, he had a young king’s majesty.
Trix was speechless. To be able to return not only to Mair Ultima, but to Zilvia as well, was her wildest dreams come true.
The machina kneeled before Elael Vorlym. She bowed her head. Strands of white hair fell in front of her face. The sea breeze caressed her scars. Covered in wounds, both old and new, yet nothing hurt.
The vanguard who had addressed Trix in the street presented her ornamental rapier to Elael. He took it solemnly, angling the blade in front of his face, then holding it skyward. He brought it down onto Trix’s right shoulder.
‘For bright stars,’ he said, moving to her left, ‘and clear skies. From this moment onwards, rise, as a knight of not only Blor’daeyn but Zilvia, and an honorary citizen of Xardiassant. You kneeled before me as Beatrix Westwood. Now rise as Beatrix Of Zilvia. May your honour burn brighter than the stars and stretch further than the skies.’
Trix stood. She was on the verge of tears. She’d introduced herself as Trix of Zilvia for the majority of her life. Now she had earned that right. She thought she was dreaming. Or maybe she’d already challenged Gauthier and this was the beginning of a twisted nightmare.
Everything held in place. No one turned into demons. The sky didn’t go black, nor did the sea turn to pus. Zilvia was beautiful. And, smiling from ear to ear, eyes full of gratitude, so was Beatrix Westwood. Scars and all.
‘My thanks, Lord Vorlym, Officer Myven.’
Myven Daebas didn’t speak, but he grinned. It was he who was thankful.
‘Many people speak highly of you, Beatrix,’ Elael said, returning the ceremonial rapier to the vanguard. ‘And many of them are powerful individuals. Do see that you continue to be worthy of their praise.’
Trix heard a cruiser pull up behind the Sun’s Lookout. She turned. Rida Ordway stepped out wearing a crème dress that didn’t have a single speck of dust on it. She was carrying a crown of Zilvian roses. They were raspberry coloured with dashes of crimson and magenta. Trix could see that all the thorns had been taken off.
The knights parted for Rida. She curtsied in front of Trix.
‘You needn’t curtsey for me, Rida. It’s I who should be bowing to you,’ the machina said.
‘I made you this,’ Rida said, holding out the flower crown. It looked just like the one Baxter had made Trix on her 13th birthday. Trix put it on. Rida hugged her.
‘Thank you for taking care of the bad people who came. I’m glad they didn’t come to Duskmere.’
‘I wouldn’t have let them.’
‘Will you come and visit?’
‘I have something to do first. Then I promise I’ll be back.’
‘Alright. I’ll let you go. My mama always said that being late was awful rude.’
‘Especially in this instance,’ Valentine muttered, thinking about how Nadira Vega was ready to assassinate three of Trix’s friends.
Trix and the rest of Strife Squad bade farewell to Blor’daeyn’s Feudal Lords. Vyanlo Aervuth gave Trix an icy stare, though the others congratulated her warmly enough.
Strife Squad piled into the cruisers. They were headed for the docks. Trix was approached by Elael Vorlym as they were about to takeoff.
‘I believe Felix Westwood used to live on the Fynoed Mountains, right near the pass.’
‘Yes he did.’
‘It has been brought to my attention that his home has been vandalised, though no one has claimed the land. I should think it is only right that it be yours from now on.’
‘Thank you, Lord Vorlym.’
‘Do not disappoint me, Beatrix. Your title is no longer a lie. I expect you to honour it without even the slightest ignominy.’
Elael Vorlym stepped back. The cruiser took off tow
ards the docks. Rida waved from the ground until Strife Squad was out of sight.
Trix felt euphoric. She would never truly forgive herself for Duskmere’s massacre.
But at last, she could move on.
2
The Fox was dwarfed by the Red Queen at the docks.
Serena was overseeing the loading of cargo onto Valentine’s ship. She’d bought everything from food to ammunition while she’d been out.
‘Serena, my darling, you’ll never guess what happened,’ Valentine said, coming up behind her.
‘You were offered a knighthood?’ she said, never taking her eyes off the cargo.
‘Alright, I stand corrected.’
‘They offered me one too, not long after breakfast this morning. They said it was for taking down the hostile corvette away from the city.’
‘And? Did you accept?’
‘Brigadier First Class of the 19th Orbital Ranger Division is the only title I need,’ she said, facing Strife Squad.
‘I said the same, in a manner of speaking. And I’m glad I did. If they offered you a knighthood they must be giving the bloody title away now.’
‘I was offered one before you, which means you were the one cheapening it,’ Serena said.
‘Haven’t I been stabbed enough times to avoid being wounded by your lashing tongue?’
‘Not until I puncture your ego,’ Serena said, giving Valentine a well-meaning slap in the face. ‘It’ll get you killed.’
‘That’s a pity. I was hoping the drinking would do that. It is softer than your scathing wit. Your hands, too.’
The cargo finished loading into the Red Queen. Serena Alura turned to face Strife Squad. Her eyes alarmed at Faedra’s presence. ‘Es que la puta quien comenzado esta?’
Faedra didn’t speak a lick of Spanish. Valentine did. He couldn’t help chuckling.
‘She’s with us now. We’ll explain it inside.’
Valentine walked beside Serena as everyone ascended the Red Queen’s loading ramp. The author’s ship was three stories like the Fox, only they were considerably larger. All the furnishings were new. It could sleep over fifty people, and, during some of Valentine’s notorious parties, it often did. And then some.
Valentine led everyone past a couple Aeon coupes — both in red — to the main airlock which could accommodate twenty people at once. The Red Queen’s secondary foyer was past that.
Some things were the same as Trix’s ship. For instance, everything was bolted down, and nothing was loose on shelves or on tables. It’d be chaos each time Serena performed a manoeuvre otherwise.
Valentine’s armoury was to the left. A guest bedroom was to the right. Directly ahead was an elevator which could take people to the top floor. The bottom floor — which housed many of the ship’s important functions like the warpdrive, fusion core, and hyperdrive systems — was only accessible by Serena and Valentine.
Although the Red Queen possessed a war-room, much like the ones in which Renier von Gerdac favoured discussing business, Valentine rarely used it. Instead, he walked around the elevator and guided everyone to a lounge room with its own bar, dance floor, and hot tub. A sliding blast-door covered it when it wasn’t in use.
Serena sat in an armchair. Valentine headed for the bar.
‘I’m taking drink orders. Who wants one?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Altayr said, taking a seat on a plush sofa which faced a television the size of the opposite wall. Faedra sat beside him.
‘Nothing for me either,’ said the sorceress.
‘Wasn’t exactly asking you,’ said Valentine. ‘Trix, you don’t get a choice. Your knighthood deserves a toast.’
The machina didn’t even try arguing. She sat on the sofa perpendicular to Altayr’s.
‘And, Serena, the usual?’
‘Sí.’
Valentine poured several nips of whiskey into a tumbler for himself. Then he began making Serena’s signature drink, a Firecracker Sunrise. It was essentially a tequila sunrise combined with a firecracker. He delivered it to Serena when it was done. Finally, he opened a bottle of Psygotaic bubbly. Much like champagne, the psygotaic drink was stronger, and the carbonation was naturally bottled at the source, with the fermented fruits added later.
The author sat next to Trix.
‘Cheers, everyone,’ Valentine raised his glass. Those who were drinking did the same. Once Trix had a sip of hers, she got down to business.
‘Serena, I’m assuming that Valentine told you about the current situation?’
‘He did. Demons, mages, and Nadira Vega. It’s more of a clusterfuck than the Raven Offensive, remember?’ she said to Valentine.
The author nearly choked on his drink. ‘If only I could forget.’
‘We have a plan to make sure that we get out of this alive, but we’ll need you as a diversion. A potentially dangerous one.’
‘Everything with you is dangerous,’ Serena said.
Trix couldn’t argue with that. She explained the plan to have Serena park in Dark’s Hide with a fake thermobaric bomb signature projecting to the space station’s scanner.
‘That actually sounds pretty easy. But I’m not thrilled about being parked in the dragon’s den when you say the majority of her forces will still be there. I won’t be able to hold them off all by myself. And if I takeoff, I’d need to stay close enough to the station so the bomb will still be a threat. Though that’s going to mean I’ll be in range of their orbital defence cannons. And Nadira’s installed even more than Farosi. She wasn’t interested in having another repeat of the kalarikian attack which took a chunk out of Dark’s Hide.’
Trix thought about this. Serena was going to need backup. She couldn’t go with her. And neither could Altayr. He’d be needed if Faedra tried anything stupid.
‘Valentine will go with you. Whatever happens on Dark’s Hide is going to be less strenuous than fighting Nadira on Orix.’
Valentine’s face soured a little. He’d been hoping for another battle with Trix. But part of him — though he’d be too ashamed to admit it — was relieved. His healing muscles were causing him constant grief. He wouldn’t be able to draw with the same lightning reflexes to which he was accustomed.
‘Just like old times,’ Valentine nodded to Serena.
‘If by that you mean I’ll have to save you again, then you’re probably right.’
‘Where can I let Sif do her work?’ Trix said.
‘I’ll take you through,’ said Serena. She downed her drink in one go then waved Trix over. They didn’t have to go far. There was a terminal in one of the guest bedrooms.
‘In case the ship’s taken, for whatever reason, it can be flown from any terminal on board. You’re not going to have as perfect control compared to the cockpit, but it’s better than nothing if you’re being hijacked.’
‘Is this alright, Sif?’
‘Please,’ the AI said.
Trix took that as a yes. Connected her comms gauntlet to the terminal. Sif began encoding a bomb signature that could be turned on whenever Serena was ready. The machina could hardly believe that Sif had once been a gold sphere which moved whenever it was computing, or scanning. It’d been Trix who’d chosen Sif’s body, voice, and name.
Maybe she’d wanted a companion all along and just never admitted it to herself.
‘This isn’t going to end well,’ Serena said. She was watching Sif work. ‘You’ll be making one of the most dangerous people in the Milky Way your enemy. Ours as well.’
‘I’m hoping that Nadira will be able to see reason.’
‘And what’re the chances of that?’
‘Slim. She doesn’t like it when something she believes to be rightfully hers is taken away.’
‘Have you anything to give her in exchange for robbing her of a wish?’
‘Nothing that she would deem worthwhile, except for my service in future endeavours.’
‘Because that’s worked out so well for her this time around.’
�
�The only other way she could acquire a wish is by finding a djinn, and I’m in no position to do that. She’d need a mage.’
‘Then let us hope she’s reasonable. I have no desire to have her assassins after me.’
‘You don’t have to help.’
‘I’d never deny a Meteor Brigade member my service, nor the friend of one. And you’re my friend too, Trix.’
‘Thank you, Serena.’
‘Have you called Nadira to let her know you’re coming?’
‘I was going to do that once Sif had finished.’
‘Well, getting up early won’t make the sun rise any faster. We’ve done all we can do.’
‘I never had a chance to thank you for bringing down that mercenary corvette.’
Serena shrugged. ‘I still remember making sure the others could drop while outmanoeuvring swarms of anghenfil interceptors, and extracting everyone with twice as many on me. It was nothing.’
‘Alright,’ said Sif. ‘I’m all done. Have your AI turn on the signature, or you can do it manually. It’s not made to be hidden so the scanners should pick it up. Once they do, they’ll have your location. What I’ve done might continue fooling them even when they perform a full scan on your ship. If it does, then you can bet you’ll be facing stiff resistance when Nadira’s Hidden come to disarm the bomb. I doubt they’d be foolish enough to blow you up with rockets from the docks. Since I’ve set the signature to armed, they shouldn’t even consider destroying the ship without risking the entire station.
‘To add a little bit of realism, I’ve set the ship to know when it’s being scanned, then use the cold fusion core’s energy output to trick Dark’s Hide’s scanners into thinking that’s the bomb’s location.’
‘But the fusion core won’t detonate, will it?’ Serena said.
‘No, of course not.’
‘And what if we’re found out?’
‘Then I suggest evacuating the area post-haste,’ said Sif as Trix unplugged her. ‘And turning the shields to maximum, because they’ll be coming after you with everything they have.’
That was when Trix had an idea.
‘Fuck me. I can’t believe I missed that.’ Trix left the guest bedroom. There was one asset still to be used.